Think this room's a bit too crowded
for our quiet doubts about the soundtrack
We'll make due, we'll use the corners
shout our names above some chorus I don't know well
We'll struggle to make conversation
land on all the places that we'd rather be than New York
Mute the news in Ahmed's taxi
spill our drinks into the backseat on our way home
you whisper platitudes from porn scenes
run your hand way up my inseam - sorry Ahmed, I can't stop this
you can take wrong turns down one way backstreets
run the fare up by $5.50, I won't mind it -
I won't mind you wasting your time here
Strip down to your silhouette and stay for me I'll take one half of you.
Strip down to your silhouette and stay for me I'll take one half.
You can keep the rest of it.
You lean back your eyes half open
follow all the pre-war moulding on my ceiling
That's alright, I don't mind
I'll keep playing my own rhythm to your breathing, as you speed up
You sit up, won't pause to savor it
as if my tongue's some kind of favor you should return to me.
I know this room's a bit too crowded
for you quiet doubts about it in the morning.
We'll make due, dress in the corners,
learn each others' names once more
I have grown so sentimental
I would even smoke your menthols if you offered 'til I"m nauseous
We can take wrong turns down one way backstreets
fool around in taxi back seats I wont mind it.
I don't mind you wasting your time here.